Wavelength
by ToulouseD
Summary: "It was not until he had read a little further that he stopped to think. The radio could not just turn itself on, that would have to mean he was not alone in here." In a storage-room amidst bleach and books, Ichigo finds Ishida sleeping.
1. Finding Neverland

_Note:_ None of the songs listed in this fic are owned by me. Neither do I fancy them. They are a selection of what the Danish charts offers their listeners. I'm not saying the songs are stricly necessary to read this fic, other than provide some atmosphere.

The lyrics are not meant to fit exactly. This is not a song fic, but a fic containing songs. The lyrics won't be a precise match as they aren't in real life.

It had started some time last week. Ichigo had been in need of doing some last minute homework and was therefore on the hunt for a suitable location to read the two chapters in _Catcher in the Rye _they had been assigned. Usually he was on top of the whole homework business, but last night had been a nightmare. He did not know what was going on, if the Hollows migrated or what the hell was going down, but he, Chad, Inoue and Ishida had had plenty of Hollows to hunt yesterday night.

This resulted in Ichigo almost falling onto the bed when he arrived home. The night ended too soon. If he had not known better, rather if the annoying alarm clock that was his father had not been practically impeccable, he would have thought he had only just dozed off.

When 6th period came, the blessed 6th period of freedom, he remembered the two chapters in _Catcher in the Rye._ He had almost wanted to scream aloud. He did not understand Holden, did not understand the world he was running around in and he certainly did not understand what on earth Sallinger was trying to convey.

It was with slight reluctance that he found an empty storage-room wherein he could sit and crawl his way through _Catcher in the Rye_. The book really annoyed him. Holden was a prick, a brat and most definitely a spoiled little shit. At least that was Ichigo's impression after the first three chapters.

Ichigo sat down with his back towards the wall and his ass on the ground. The storage-room contained old books, cleaning remedies and a bookshelf without a single book in it. The books were stacked on the floor in tall piles, resembling a miniature version of Tokyo or New York City. On the bookshelf was utilities to clean every possible kind of filth.

It was in this storage that he found himself during the free-period, right after lunch, with _Catcher in the Rye_ in his hand and a displeased scowl. People did not seem to understand the different scowls he had. Ichigo had to admit he had not given this much thought until Yuzu pointed out one morning that he was wearing his tired-frown. Later he had been told he wore a hungry-frown, and so he found out his sisters could read his frowns like a book, he suspected his father also, but that man was a bloody liability.

It startled him when a radio suddenly turned on. He nearly jumped three feet in the air. An up-beat dance-song was quietly rippling the silence in the little storage-space and thus interrupting his reading. Now Ichigo might not like the book they were reading, but he did enjoy the subject. English was one of the courses his scores were above average and he intended to keep it that way.

He therefore tried his best not to send the book flying after the sound of the peppy hosts and the overly cheery choices of current popular music. It was not until he had read a little further that he stopped to think. The radio could not just turn itself on, that would have to mean he was not alone in here. With a resigned sigh he got up to peer around the bookless bookshelf, which was strategically placed in the middle of the goddamn room.

Ichigo did not know what he had expected, but surely it was not the sleeping figure of Ishida Uryuu. He was lying on his side with his back turned towards the door. His hand rested in front of his face and chest, both fisted lightly. He had made a pillow of some worn books and looked quite comfortable. The radio stood beside his head and kept spouting dance charts, FM-jingles and 80's hits much to Ichigo's dismay.

Ishida stirred in his slumber and moved his hand further up as if protecting his face. His glasses was off of his nose and had been placed beside the radio. The Quincy was sound asleep, nestled between books and bleach, sponges and brown soap. Ichigo could only stand there. He did not fully understand why, but seeing Ishida like this somehow made him relax his brow.

The darkhaired one always seemed to be on guard. Behind glasses, behind snide remarks, behind that Quincy pride of his, he had built himself a fortress. Impenetrable walls, arrow-towers every few yards, prepared to shoot whoever came near. Seeing the drawbridge open like this, peering into the kingdom Ishida ruled over, it seemed almost magical.

Now Ichigo had always been fond of fantasy literature. Especially when he was younger, his mother would read him all sorts of fairytales and stories of such. He enjoyed the tales of the knights that fought the dragon to protect the city, the clever boy from a land far away that ended up winning the fair princess, and the mythical creatures like elves, gnomes, trolls and wizards.

Somehow, seeing Ishida there, lying unprotected and vulnerable made him think of those stories. Ichigo slowly, quietly sat down as not to awake the sleeping boy and have the illusion broken.

The bell rang out of the blue and Ichigo found himself scrambling to his feet. He smacked the book closed and hurried out of the storage. If Ishida had found him hovering over him . . . Ichigo did not really want to think of what might happen. The archer was quite even-tempered unless he was dealing with Ichigo, for some reason.

7th period and all that that entails was painstakingly horrid. Ichigo kept thinking of Ishida sleeping and for some reason unbeknownst to mankind, Ochi-sensei thought he was the perfect person to ask all sorts of questions about Holden and his dubious actions. To make matters even worse, whenever he couldn't answer, Ochi-sensei kicked the question to Ishida who gave a straight and precise one.

* * *

From that day on, Ichigo would go to the storage-room to find Ishida sleeping there. He wondered why the Quincy needed the extra sleep. Ichigo was under the impression that Ishida's day consisted of school, sewing, reading and then early to bed. Maybe he cleaned a little too, he seemed like a neat-freak.

The radio would also be there. The station would differ, but the hosts and the music was still terrible. The latest smash-hit was David Guetta and Nicki Minaj' "_Turn me on_". Ichigo swore, he would open the Hellgate and fling the godforsaken radio through there if they played that song again.

But what confounded Ichigo the most, was that very object. Ishida did not seem like the type of person who thought Nicki Minaj to be a musically gifted protege of the arts. Ichigo had pictured him listening to classical, maybe jazz or folk, but never dance!

"Ichigo, you're having lunch with us today, right?" Keigo asked and looked at him with almost sparkling eyes. Ichigo felt bad about skipping lunch with his friends. Again. But he had found out that Ishida would retire to the storage-room during lunch, which gave Ichigo the possibility to watch the sleeping form a little longer.

"Sorry, I've got other plans." he said without sincerity, but Keigo did not notice. Instead he practically fell to his knees and put his hand to his forehead.

"What is going on, Ichigo-kun? You never eat with us anymore. Have you found other friends? Or could it be you've gotten yourself a girlfriend?" Keigo shouted the last part. He had turned ghastly white and his hand was covering his mouth in pure shock.

"Ichigo, you traitor!" he screamed with eyes the size of teacups. Mizuiro sighed behind him and grabbed his arm.

"Asano-san, stop pestering Ichigo. We should be eating lunch." he said with a pleasant voice.

"Why do you call my Asano-san? Why is everyone acting so coldly?" he cried while Mizuiro calmly dragged him to the roof. Ichigo, by now used to Keigo's rather dramatic personality, rolled his eyes and started out towards the storage-room.

He found Ishida on set already fast asleep. Ichigo sat down and began starring at his friend. He somehow got the feeling that by watching Ishida, the archer would reveal his deepest secrets.

And it did not hurt that Ishida was easy on the eyes. Ichigo had not noticed this at first, but after the first time, he later started considering Ishida studiously. It had been well hidden beneath a cold exterior, that nerdy facade and those damned glasses. When he would turn in his sleep and his school-shirt would ride up his abdomen to reveal that the white t-shirt underneath also had taken a trip up North, Ichigo found it near impossible to look away,

Now Ishida did that exact thing, and Ichigo felt his mouth go dry. He would swallow quickly, wetting his throat. The thoughts he was starting to have about the Quincy, he did not think them healthy. Especially because they had started making their way into his nights.

He had begun putting more thought into the radio, Ishida's sleeping habits and why he did not know more about his friend than he did. He knew Ishida was a reserved and quiet person, but it was next to nothing that Ichigo actually knew.

The hollow feeling that followed in the wake of that conclusion was not welcome in the least.

* * *

Ishida did not seem to be the type that would shake his booty to the heavy beats of dance music, shake his booty at all did not appear at all possible. This thought had awoken a beast. Ichigo now had to look Ishida in the eyes every day, even though he wondered how the Quincy would bust a move.

It could have been hilarious. It was not. One could wonder why, the thought of Ishida dancing could easily have been proved funny, but Ichigo did not think that Ishida would be a bad dancer. The archer was very flexible, very smooth. Therefore Ichigo had come to the conclusion that Ishida dancing would be a vision for the Gods.

"Right, Ichigo?" he heard Keigo say, receiving an elbow to his arm. Ichigo must have looked exceedingly bewildered, because the confirming grunt he emitted was met with a high-pitched gasp and a horrified expression.

"Ichigo-kun, you were dozing off again! You don't wanna be with your friends, but rather this mysterious girlfriend of yours! Why are not letting us in?"

Ichigo punched him in the face. "Shut the fuck up, Keigo!" he yelled and took a decisive bite of his lunch. Mizuiro and Tatsuki snickered, Chad remained passive and Inoue just kept smiling.

"I wonder where Ishida-kun is." Inoue wondered out loud. Chad nodded. Ichigo scowled. He knew very well where Ishida was, and he would have been with him, had not it been for the idiot Keigo. He had practically kidnapped Ichigo when class had ended.

"Who cares." Ichigo murmured and took another mouthful of his lunch. Chad simply looked at him and Inoue looked confused, Tatsuki too, Mizuiro looked suspicious and Keigo looked at Inoue's chest. When Tatsuki saw this, he received another punch to the face.

The conversation then turned to the upcoming test in math, the Kendo tournament in June and how Keigo should participate again.

Ichigo let his mind wonder once more, let it crawl it's way through a thick forest, following the cobble-stone road and heading towards the white castle adorned with a deep-blue moat, covered in waterlilies. On top of the castle wall a single figure stood. Calm, almost regal, simply waiting for Ichigo to come.

* * *

A month had passed since Ichigo had found Ishida sleeping for the first time and he had still to find out Ichigo was watching him when sleeping. Keigo still pestered him about his mystery girlfriend and Ichigo still punched him whenever he got a little too nosy.

They had moved on from _Catcher in the Rye_ and was currently reading _The Crucible_.

So Ichigo now read about women getting burned because of this little bitch called Abigail. But he had to admit that watching Ishida was far more interesting. He made an agreement with himself. He would read a page, look at Ishida, read a page, look at Ishida, and keep it that way.

Until he found out he would get more time to watch Ishida if he read it all in one go. So he did that and spent the remaining 20 minutes watching the archer.

He had become a little friskier with the radio, changing the channel to something more tolerable. He had found a station that played a little more varied music, even something he could live with. At the moment it was Lukas Graham's "_Drunk in the Morning_" that was playing. Ichigo didn't mind that kind of music too much.

Ichigo had dared to move closer to Ishida's face. This gave him a wonderful view of the archer's delicate features. The long, dark lashes sometimes fluttering like butterflies, the snowy cheeks and the light-pink lips. They were slightly parted and a little chapped, but reminded Ichigo of budding cherry blossoms. Ishida's hair was a source of enchantment but also frustration. The raven-like strands would resemble obsidian in the right light, but would screen his face from Ichigo's view.

He never knew another person could be described like that, but apparently a poet was resting within.

So, while getting more daring with the radio, he also got a little braver with Ishida himself. He brushed the hair from his face gently, only to have Ishida turn to his left side, now screened by the bookshelf. Ichigo had wanted to kick him.

What was worse was that Ichigo did not get this feeling around Chad, Keigo or Mizuiro. So why the hell would he get it around Ishida? His heart would start beating as if following the rhythm set by an African drum duo and his hands would shake.

He had also started studying Ishida's hands. The almost invisible white lines that could be traced a good while up his forearms. Like spiderwebs they winded and twisted around his fair wrists and birch-like complexion. His fingers were long and thin, his wrist seemed so fragile that a single touch would fracture it. Actually, Ishida resembled one of those porcelain figurines Ichigo had seen in a window of an antique-shop.

Maybe that was why Ichigo had reached out for his hand. To see if Ishida really was made of porcelain. Of course Ichigo knew Ishida was tough. He had lost his goddamn hand, for the love of an unnamed deity! He had let his arms tear to save Ichigo, had been seriously injured to protect Rukia, had fought Mayuri, had combated Ulqiorra, had schooled Yammy. That made the corners of Ichigo's mouth lift. Only Ishida would've been provoking enough to challenge an Arrancar more than thrice his size.

When his fingers had made contact with Ishida's palm, they had started buzzing. Was this how _reiatsu _felt? He twined his fingers around the Quincy's hand. He let out a shaky breath. He did not understand why this was affecting him as it was. Even though he was only holding his hand, it felt so intimate.

His eyes was trained on their joined hands, so at first he did not notice. But he near had a heart-attack when he found a pair of azure eyes, bluer than the sky, the ocean, than bloody Lapis Lazuli, staring him right in the eyes. Because Ishida was not wearing his glasses those marbles seemed so much more intense. Ichigo could not move an inch. His heart was like galloping elks, thundering in his chest. Every tick, every tock of the watch seemed to last a decade.

Ishida just looked at him, did not say a word. Ichigo waited for him to regain his senses and start shouting at him, kick him in his face for his troubles. But Ishida blinked once, twice, closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

Ichigo felt a light squeeze to his hand and his mind went blank.

* * *

It took him a week before he could even look Ishida in the eye again, not to mention show his face in the storage-room. What was even weirder was that Ishida somehow did not seem to mind that much. He was alarmingly calm, sent Ichigo a look that said NOTHING WHATSOEVER to help him decipher what was going on inside Ishida's mind.

"You don't mind the radio, do you?" he asked when Ichigo crept into the storage.

"Why would I care about your goddamn radio?" he sneered and dumped down on his usual seat. Usual before he started sitting next to Ishida, so the seat he had taken the first time he had been here.

"I was trying to be polite, you should try it sometime." he retorted. "Dickhead."

"Y'know, you were a lot more friendly when you were sleeping."

"And you were being a lot more obliging."

That was their first conversation without any of the others around. It resembled their usual banter, but they both felt the underlying tension. It was not until Ishida had gotten up and sat down next to Ichigo that the Soul Reaper reacted on it, though.

His muscled stiffened, his knuckles turning white, almost looking like Ishida's skin. Skin's said owner stirred a little, then leaned onto Ichigo in a testing manner. He saw the eyelids drooping, and slowly Ishida's head ended up on his shoulder. Now Ichigo really could not move. His eyes found the sleeping figure and with near awe, he inhaled.

Ichigo then continued reading _The Crucible_, combing through the last few chapters quickly, for some odd reason feeling elated. Probably because he had not got an arrow shot in his face. He could not really figure out what else it could be.

* * *

"Ichigo, you've had sex, haven't you?" Keigo shouted and pointed at him. Ichigo just looked at him without the slightest indication of knowing what the hell the idiot was rambling about now.

"Your entire appearance gives off an aura of recent shagging!" he kept going.

"Shut up, retard!" Ichigo bellowed and punched him right in the mouth.

"What Asano-san is trying to say, is that you look happier." Mizuiro clarified and smiled innocently.

"Why do you keep calling me Asano-san?" Keigo cried from the floor but went unheard.

"Whatever." Ichigo dismissed and walked away. He made sure that no one was following him and disappeared into the storage, that by now is like a second home, almost.

Ishida was waiting for him, with a tarnished book in his hand. His eyes were flying over the pages and they were being turned with near superhuman speed. Ichigo threw his backpack down and slumped down the wall. Ishida had begun remaining awake when Ichigo was there. Ichigo found he did not mind too much. They bickered still, but the heat was gone. It seemed like it was the only way they really could talk to each other.

"Done with _The Crucible_?" Ishida asked and folded the corner of the page, indicating where he had stopped. Ichigo simply stared at the fingers nimbly folding and removing the book from view. He had not thought Ishida, bookwork extra-ordinaire, would fold the corners like a common man.

"Yeah, last night."

"You should read _All Quiet on the Western Front._ I think you would like it."

"It's not part of the curriculum."

"It might seem quite hard to imagine, but it is allowed to read outside of school. People around the world actually read for fun. I know it sounds completely impossible. I might add I'm a part of this mysterious cult, this movement of enlightenment, one might say. It requires a strong mind to walk this path, the school does not want you to expand your mind you see –"

"Shut up, Ishida!" he interrupted. Ishida could keep on rambling like that is you gave him the chance. The other merely snickered and shrugged. Sometimes he was still a prick.

"Here." he slapped a book into his lap and nestled down beside him.

"What the fuck is this? _The Little Prince_? Ishida, what don't you understand –"

"Just read me the first chapter. That's all I'm asking."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Why? You probably read it already?"

"I've never had it read to me. There's a big difference."

Ichigo sighed and turned to the first page. Ishida put his head on his shoulder and closed his eyes. The Soul Reaper felt stupid. Reading a book the guy had already read seemed a little counterproductive. But for some reason, he felt that Ishida would like it if he did it. This compelled him to read. And after he had read the first chapter, he kept reading it. Both because it was good, but also because he saw a little smile on Ishida's lips.

* * *

A while after that, Ishida invited Ichigo to come home with him. Ichigo was again exceedingly puzzled as to why his insides felt shaky, almost as if his internal organs had turned to Jell-O. But, as with the book, the smile that did not really touch the archers mouth, but shone brightly through his eyes, as Ichigo had shrugged and said, "Sure, it's not like I've anything better to do." convinced him.

And it was true. Even though he made it sound like had tons of other things waiting for him, he knew that he would ditch them all to walk home with Ishida to his place. And then the nerves kicked in. He felt his heart speed up, reaching 200 mph and still going as they stood in front of the building Ishida inhabited.

It was concrete, not shabby, but not posh either. It looked respectable, but not boastful. It somehow could not be anywhere else Ishida could live. They climbed the three flights of stairs to the archer's floor and from his shoulder-bag he fished out his keys.

"It's quite messy, I hope you can manage." Ishida warned him, not sounding the least apologetic. It would not be Ishida if he was ashamed of anything he did or thought. Ichigo had found this quality extremely appealing when he had first started to know Ishida. For the love of love itself, he the guy sewed and had no qualms about making a grand show of a minor stitch-up.

When Ishida opened the door, he walked in with ease and disappeared. When Ichigo tried to mimic him, he tripped. It was an understatement to say Ishida's flat was messy, even quite messy did not merit the battlefield he found himself in. It looked like his apartment had been the sole casualty of an atomic bomb, an extraterrestrial war or Apocalypse itself.

Books was strewn and stacked on every flat surface, but exactly like the storage-room, they were nowhere near the bookshelf in the back of the living-room. Old paintings from Europe, America and he suspected Russia hung on the walls. Adorning the floorspace, old furniture from the 18th century or whatever, a seemingly Oriental carpet covering the parquet floor. He could not really tell, the floor was out of sight. But it was almost squeaky clean, he had to admit to that.

But the bookshelves was filled with porcelain figurines, sewing equipment and an old transistor radio. Last mentioned turned on, pushing another round of charts out in the flat. Ishida emerged from the kitchen and looked puzzled at him.

"Why are you standing there?" he asked with an inquisitive brow.

"Because only monkeys and soldiers can make it through the trenches of your apartment!"

"There's a path a little to your left." he informed and went back into the kitchen. Ichigo removed his shoes, looked a little to his left and found a trail only a bloody Navajo-indian would be capable of spotting. He edged his way over to the couch and sat down.

"Ishida, have you ever wondered why bookshelves are called bookshelves? I might be going out on a limb here, but I do think it's because they're supposed to be shelves for books."

"I need the shelves for other things."

"How did it get to this?" Ichigo asked as he kept scouting the apartment for any signs of life. People, not to mention animals, could be swallowed whole. Quicksand was less dangerous than Ishida's apartment.

"Ryuken only gives me enough money to cover the bare minimum, so I had to buy my furniture at the thriftstore." he started and came in with two cups. One with tea and the other with coffee. Ichigo received the one containing coffee. "But across the hall," he continued and took a sip, "lives an old lady. She knows about my situation, so whenever she finds something she thinks I might like, she buys it for me. My apartment looks like a yard sale because she sometimes cleans up in her apartment and gives me the surplus."

Ichigo stared at him. "You could throw it out, y'know."

Ishida shook his head and looked around. "All of these things remind me that there's still someone out there who cares about someone like me."

He looked away from Ichigo and took another drink. "Her husband died a few years ago. He was a German citizen and therefore they owned a lot of German books, him being an avid reader. When he died, there wasn't anyone to read all those books and she gave them to me. Last year she went to Spain and bought me _Don Quixote de la Mancha_ because she heard me say _Mala _suerte one time. Every time she remembers it, she asks how his adventures are coming. I've been forced to learn Spanish because of that."

Ichigo did not miss the genuinely happy smile that passes Ishida's features. Ichigo takes another drink of his coffee, somehow wishing that he too could find something Ishida would go out of his way like that to fully appreciate. Ishida then handed him a book and got comfortable.

"Today's pick, _The Count of Monte Cristo._" Ishida announced and and gave a little smile, radiant truly in his eyes. Ichigo conceded and put down his coffee.

* * *

"Why do you always have your radio turned on?" Ichigo asked on his fourth visit. At the moment a young singer named Katy Perry was telling the listeners about last Friday night. Ichigo looked at the radio with annoyance. That particular song seemed to be the mass populace's idea of good music, being played non-stop. 92.9 could kiss his ass!

"The apartment is . . . it's very quiet without it." Ishida said with a low voice as he searched for _The Count of Monte Cristo_. He had apparently misplaced it. Ichigo was amazed that he even bothered looking for it. In this wilderness it might be lost forever.

"What's wrong with the silence?" Ichigo said, starting to skim the different titles next to him.

"Nothing. But coming home every day to the same eerily quiet apartment . . . I don't know, it just got to me. I found the radio in a thrift-store and figured I might as well try. It's stuck on 92.9 FM, but it dispels the silence."

Ichigo lifted his head to stare at the archer. He never thought about how Ishida was going about living alone. Hell, he did not know why Ishida lived alone in the first place. He suspected it was Ryuken, his father, that was the main reason. Ishida had told him about the fight with Mayuri, had told him that Mayuri had remarked that he was a genius, Ichigo had not even lifted his brow at this, but his father told him the exact opposite.

"You have no talent." Ishida would repeat dryly and smile a lifeless smile. The smile of someone with a broken spirit. Ichigo had then wanted to punch Ishida Ryuken in the face.

* * *

"Why dance music? I've always figured you to be a classical kinda guy. Mozart, y'know?" Ichigo asked while Ishida is in the kitchen making tea.

"I do like the classical, but I prefer Tchaikovsky over Mozart." he replied and came out with two steaming cups, both with coffee this time. He put them both down and went to the third pile on next to the bookshelf.

"When I was younger, Ryuken had me taking piano-lessons. I think he wanted to take my time away from being a Quincy, his way of stopping me from using my bow. Practice was almost two hours a day and the pieces weren't exactly child's play. He had me practicing Raindrop Prelude at the age of eight."

Ichigo simply listened and drank a little coffee from his cup. "My mom bought me a guitar. Never forced me to play it though."

"That's the thing. I like classical music, but I don't like being reminded of how much time I wasted on it. As long as it's something other than Chopin it'll do."

Ishida found the tales of the dear count and threw it to Ichigo. He sat down next to him and pulled up his legs.

"Besides, my radio's stuck on that one frequency, even if I wanted to, I couldn't find a better station."

* * *

"Why do you sleep at school?" Ichigo asks when he is now made it a habit to walk Ishida home. Sometimes he would be invited inside, sometimes Ishida wanted to sleep, sometimes he had stuff to do with the student council, sometimes he had to go see Ryuken. Apparently Ishida had to ask him in person for more money when he had exceeded the finite amount given each month.

Ichigo would then go home and do what he did. Homework, fighting his father, hunting Hollows, help Yuzu or Karin with their homework, occasionally help his father in the clinic, sometimes going shopping, sometimes being dragged shopping by Keigo.

"I sleep very lightly at night. It takes nothing and I wake. I can't remember a night where I haven't woken up at least twice." Ishida replied. He had been reluctant to answer Ichigo's questions at first, but slowly he had started sharing.

"My bed's in the middle of the room because my neighbors have odd hours of doing the horizontal cha cha." he added while scratching his cheek. Another thing Ichigo had come to like was the way Ishida expressed himself. While he could be rather awkward when put on the spot emotionally, when given enough time he would answer eventually. And the answers tended to have words Ichigo did not understand. He thought Ishida did it deliberately so that he had some sort of barrier still.

Ichigo did not care. He had an encyclopedia and a compliant memory so he figured out what Ishida had said in due time.

"I sleep at school because I sleep better during the day." he finished and picked up another book. He threw it at Ichigo who caught it with both hands held out like an alligator's jaw.

"_Treasure Island._" he said and laid down on the couch. Ichigo sat down as well and Ishida pushed his upper-body up, before letting it down, placing his head in Ichigo's lap.

"Do you ever run out of books?" he asked with fake exasperation. Ishida simply smiled and Ichigo found his stomach turning and spiraling, flopping and churning.

* * *

Ichigo knocked on Ishida's door, hearing the radio through the plywoody door. He was not cool with Ishida living behind such a frail door, but he did not really think Ishida would appreciate him thinking of his door as a security breach. So he kept his mouth shut while praying to whatever God was working this district that no robber would try to break and enter. Then again, the robber would fall prey to the ingenious trap that was the very lay-out of Ishida's apartment.

"It's open!"

Ichigo walked in and found Ishida on the couch. The tunes of Lukas Graham's _Drunk in the Morning_ floated through the apartment and Ichigo smiled deviously.

"What?" Ishida asked and looked a little worried.

"_When I'm drunk in the morning, I'm calling you. You might be lonely, lonely!_" Ichigo sang. He started miming to the tunes of Lukas "quite the asshole" Graham. Ishida fought to keep his smile down, but as Ichigo also started doing something that could resemble a dance-routine, Ishida broke. His laughter was full, almost bell-like, clean and a little high-pitched. Ichigo threw himself down on the couch and looked at the archer with a serious face.

"And we never mention this again." he said, his voice quite plausibly sounding like a bank-manager, dry, serious and without a trace of joy. Ishida held his hand up to his mouth, as if to contain his laughter, but shook his head.

His face suddenly became deadly serious, like that of a motician. "Not a word."

Ichigo found he really liked Ishida's laughter. The sound was not as he had expected. He did not know exactly what he had thought it would sound like, but not this. Ishida leaned back and looked at him. Their eyes met and Ishida's mouth broke into a little smile, Ichigo suspected his face mirrored the archer's but none of them said anything.

* * *

An arrow whistled just past his ear and Ichigo spun around on his heel. Ishida looked at him, wonder clear in his face.

"What the fuck, Ishida! The Hollows, hit the Hollows!" he shouted and flung his arm out.

Ishida furrowed his brow. "My aim's not that bad, Kurosaki."

A Hollow screamed over their heads and Ishida raised his bow, ready to shoot. Ichigo jumped up, intending to slice it up before Ishida even got the chance to fire. Another arrow hissed it's way past his ear. Ichigo smirked, _Shun poed_ up besides the Hollow, let _Zangetsu_ have his way and cleaved the Hollow down the middle. Ishida's arrow flew straight through, in between the two disintegrating parts.

"What was the point of that, Kurosaki?" Ishida yelled and pushed a hand through his hair. Ichigo did not know. He had just wanted Ishida to acknowledge his existence. When they were in his apartment, Ichigo felt like the center of Ishida's world. Outside it, he was nothing but a speck of dust on his glasses.

"Ishida-kun! Watch out!" Inoue screamed and Ishida whipped around, meeting a Hollow's tail. He was hit in the middle and was flung through the park. He hit the ground, rolled and coughed. The Hollow came closer, it's white mask shining in the moonlight. Ichigo had never used _Shun po_ and felt it move slowly. But it truly felt like that time Ishida had caught him with Ichigo's hand in his, when he had simply stared.

A roar rippled through the park and the Hollow was almost over Ishida's still figure. Ichigo tried to turn the steps into strides, but found the task impossible. He wouldn't make it. How could _Shun po_ not be fast enough?

Before Ichigo got any closer, the Hollow suddenly scattered as little pieces of _reiatsu._ Ichigo landed a second after, just in front of Chad. Inoue came running and summoned the golden healing-shield thing. He had never gotten the names for her hairpins right. Chad's left arm turned back to normal and he turned to Ishida.

The Quincy pushed himself up on his elbows and glared at Ichigo. "You should've let me shoot that Hollow."

Ichigo could not really contain himself at this point, so he simply glared back with disbelief. "I can't believe you're hung up on the fact that I got the Goddamn Hollow before you!"

"That's not what he means, Ichigo." Chad said with a deep voice. Ichigo blinked and moved his now surprised stare to his best friend.

"If you had let Ishida get that Hollow, you wouldn't have been so far away, and I wouldn't have had to leave my area to kill it."

They had decided to have different areas to cover. Ishida and Inoue would be the center. Ishida would provide a grounded air-support, Chad and Ichigo would each have to cover 180 degrees of a circle, approximately a mile wide. Inoue would be on the look-out and function as a medic. Ishida had protested when she had wanted a part of the circle watch.

"Inoue-san, you don't have it in you to kill. Have you never wondered why only one of your _Shun Shun Rikka_ is capable of direct attack?" he had said with a quiet, yet firm voice. Inoue had looked down and then nodded.

"That's why I told not to go after that Hollow." Ishida sighed and got up. Inoue's healing-shield had done it's job and even his clothes were clean.

"I'm sorry." he said with a low voice, trying not to sound to aggressive. Ishida eyed him with slight suspicion and then sighed.

"Just be careful next time." he said and that seemed to settle the matter.

They disbanded quickly after that. They had a physics test tomorrow and Inoue admitted to not having read a single page. Ichigo suspected Chad to be a little behind as well, but did not say anything. He had caught up, and understood the equations and whatnot, because Ishida had walked him through it all last night.

They were alone and Ishida turned to Ichigo with a light frown on his forehead.

"Why did you do that?" he asked. There was no bitterness, no resentment, not even a trace of worry. Just slight curiosity and a glint of inquisitive wonder. "It doesn't look like you to stray from your area and trespass into mine like that. What brought that on?"

"I don't know, Ishida!" he sneered, he had not intended to, but he wanted the other to leave it be. Ishida walked up beside him and studied him silently.

"If you don't want to tell me, fine. Just figure out what's going on before something like this happens again. If Sado-kun hadn't been there I could've been seriously injured." Ichigo waited for him to add, "before you could save me," but nothing happened.

They did not notice the first droplets that started making their way down the sky. They did not see the clouds drawing closer together, the mercury-streetlamps shining clearer or the hear the crickets still their creaking.

When Ishida felt the first prickle of rain, it was practically pouring down. Ichigo did not notice before Ishida looked up towards the night-sky, the drops bouncing from his skin, making it look like a halo in the light of the streetlamps. Ichigo swallowed and stared unabashed.

Ishida turned his eye towards him, face wet, hair plastered to his face, water dripping from his nose and chin, the ends of his hair and his earlobes. He pushed the drenched hair out of the way, not doing a very good job of it. Ichigo's fingers itched to move the rest of the strands back over his fringe.

They stared at each other. Really stared. While Ishida looked a little akin to nervous, Ichigo probably looked hungry. Ishida swallowed and looked away. Ichigo's body moved on it's own accord, as if bidding him to do something else than stand and stare like an imbecile.

He combed the stray hairs out of Ishida's face. Clearing his features, making him look pure and open. Ichigo had noticed how he would whip his bangs down in front of his eyes when he wanted to create distance between himself and who- or whatever he was talking to or about.

Ishida's azure eyes fired back to Ichigo. The Soul Reaper placed a tentative hand on Ishida's jaw. Slowly, painstakingly patient leaning in. His heart was feeling like a black metal drum-solo, threatening to crush his ribs. His stomach was feeling like a ship at sea, in the middle of a storm. Throwing the boat between waves larger than life, without a safe port in sight. His legs simmered with anticipation, as if standing in shining armor in front of the great dragon, that had just taken the princess.

Ichigo felt so many things, but thought so little. While his emotions and his body went wild, his mind was blank. It blackened completely when his lips met Ishida's.

Then it sprang to life.

It was like a sensory overload, an overwhelming flood of worries and joys, it was like he was being purified. The white waves washed over his being, sprouting from his lips and fingers, the places he touched Ishida.

His fingers tightened around the other's nape and pulled him a little closer. Ishida did not do anything. His mouth was still, his lips unmoving. Ichigo's was almost numb with sensation, immobile as well. It felt like the end of an era, like the beginning of a new chapter in a story. It felt fatal.

Then a thought pushed it's way though all the feelings and started screaming at him.

"_What the FUCK are you doing? You're kissing Ishida! Ishida! He's a guy, you're a guy, negative and negative doesn't equal positive! What about him! Does he even want this? If you don't push him away now, it's what ordinary people call rape! Push, Goddammit! It's an order!_"

The another voice came through and started whispering in harmony with the other.

"_You're in trouble now. You knew something was up, but didn't you at all figure that it would lead to this? You're really out there now. What if hell and high water comes? Then what? You are really in trouble now_."

Ichigo's eyes flew open. He pushed Ishida away and looked in another direction. He did not think he could stomach meeting the other boy's eyes.

"I'm sorry, we can't . . . we shouldn't be doing this. You're my friend … you're a guy. Wow, this is . . . shit! I'm really sorry." he rambled but when he looked up again, Ishida was gone.

* * *

The following days, Ishida did not come to school. Inoue told him that he had gotten himself a bad cold. Ichigo tried calling him, he had seen a phone at his apartment and with a little searching through the phone book, he found Ishida's number.

Ishida did not pick up.

And just like that, Ishida severed all contact to him.


	2. Finding Forrester

Ichigo was hanging over his desk, looking out the window. The skies were annoyingly blue, it reminded him of Ishida. The prick still was not answering his phone, was still under the weather and still occupying a great deal of Ichigo's thoughts.

Ishida had cut him off. He did not know why. That made Ichigo feel some sort of pain in his abdomen. His heart almost felt like it was being clawed by a malicious ferret and shredded whenever someone mentioned Ishida's name. Which was every class, because they had to take attendance.

"Ishida-kun is absent again today?" Ochi-sensei asked and looked out over the class. There was no answer and she noted that Ishida was missing. Ichigo couldn't understand how she could dismiss his absence to lightly. They just looked at the empty seat and presumably saw nothing else. Ichigo saw something. And that something pained him.

It felt like a constant earthquake – No, it felt like the Winter War. Not knowing when it would happen, only knowing that it would. They had all been walking under a heavy cloud of dread, but none of them had noticed until it was over. Ichigo had been so wrapped up in his responsibility to protect everyone that he had not even registered the landslide around him.

Now the dust had settled and he had found himself buried underneath the rubble and the boulders. With Ishida the weight had not been as pronounced as now. They had been two carrying the rocks and two to dig their way out.

"What's your zodiac, Hime-chan?" Chizuru asked brightly. Ichigo wanted to throw a book after her. But then again, he had wanted to send all kinds of objects sailing through the room with the intention of hitting their heads all day.

"I'm a Virgo." she told brightly.

"Oh, you're . . . critical and somewhat pedantic. What? These Western zodiacs are totally wrong!" Chizuru complained. Brightly. Maybe it was just Ichigo being moody, but everything seemed almost nauseatingly bright.

"What about Ishida-kun?" Inoue asked and flipped through the little handbook. Ichigo suddenly awoke from his haze of resentment and got up. He got behind Inoue and looked over her shoulder.

"Here it is. Scorpio. The Scorpio is the embodiment of secrets. They're mysterious and intense. Strong, willful and passionate, the Scorpio is a fighter. But still waters run deep. They are water-signs, and such are highly emotional. While the Scorpio might appear shrouded in secrecy, when one understands that they strive after gaining the upper-hand, their mystery might unravel a little. The Scorpio demands absolute trust, and that is never easily gained. If the Scorpio does not trust you, you cannot peek into his soul." Inoue read.

Ichigo disappeared from view before the girls had a chance to ask him about his. Absolute trust? Had he done anything to break that trust? He could not figure out what that would be. Ichigo walked listlessly around the school until the bell rang and signaled the next grouping of classes.

When the day ended, Ichigo was making his way through an overjoyed crowd, all shouting and talking loudly like they were all deaf. And in this noise one could easily end up suffering from that ailment. A hand caught his forearm, and with bad grace he turned around.

Inoue stood behind him with a careful smile and hopeful eyes. She carried a few books in her arms and her school bag hung over her shoulder.

"Inoue?" he said and she her smile got a little wider.

"Kurosaki-kun. Sorry to bother you, but would you mind going with me to Ishida-kun's apartment to drop off our homework?" she inquired and lifted the books a little. Ichigo was not slow to nod and take the books from Inoue.

While they walked, Inoue told him about the food she also brought the patient. Ichigo did not want to know more about whatever she might have concocted, so he just nodded and grunted approvingly once in a while.

Ichigo could feel the anticipation coiling around his insides like snakes on the hunt. They slipped around every single organ and began squeezing it tightly the closer they got to the building Ishida lived in. Inoue fished a key out from her school-bag when they reached the door. Ichigo stared.

"Ishida-kun and I meet sometimes, talking about homework and _Shun Shun Rikka_. Since he joined the Student Council and stopped in the Handicrafts Club, we've also gotten together to sew and such." she told him gladly and turned the key. She opened and walked right in, knew the jungle path of Ishida's book-stacks.

"Ishida-kun?" she called without much bravado. Ichigo also went inside. The snakes that had been strangling his insides had withered away. Instead he felt a light fire starting to incinerate his core. He stared at the girl in front of him. She lightly jumped around and chatted smilingly to him.

Ichigo just stared at her.

"Kurosaki-kun, could you bring me the books?" she whispered. He smiled at her, the smile not even reaching past his teeth. Sure, he would bring her the books, but what he really wanted to do was thrash her face with them. He handed over the materials and fisted his hands.

"Haha, Kurosaki-kun, you like Ichimaru-san." she giggled and put a note on top of the books. She then carried them into bedroom and put them next to the bed. Inoue then came out of the dark room and skipped out.

"You coming, Kurosaki-kun?" she asked sweetly. Ichigo nodded.

"A second, Inoue." he said with barely contained anger. She just smiled and turned around.

Ichigo scoffed at her, picked up the radio and walked to the bedroom. The room was hot and stuffy. It smelled like sickness and tissue-paper. In the middle of the room stood the bed. Next to it, the homework he and Inoue had brought, in it, Ishida. He was almost completely hidden underneath the covers, only visible from the nose up. His glasses was on the nightstand, on the other side of the bed.

Ichigo snuck over to the other side, placed the radio and turned it on. Ishida stirred a little, but he did not wake. Ichigo knew he would not. He left the apartment, looking over his shoulder while Bruno Mars' _The Lazy Song_ quietly floated out from the bedroom.

* * *

He had visited Ishida's again. This time without Inoue. Originally he had just been standing outside, maybe hoping Ishida would feel his _reiatsu_ and open the door. But it was not Ishida who opened a door, it was the lady across the hall.

"Hello, young man. Are you here to visit Ishida-kun?"

She was wrinkled, with slightly tanned skin and thin, white hair. She wore thick, black-framed glasses and her entire demeanor was that of a grand mother without any grandchildren. It was probably that old lady Ishida kept getting things from. He nodded and added a smile.

"I have a key right here, just let me get it." she said and closed the door. A few seconds after she reemerged again. "I've seen you here before. Don't think I do this for everyone standing outside his door. He just seems so happy whenever you've stopped by."

Ichigo was not really listening, he just wanted the door unlocked. The minute the lock clicked, he had to rein himself in, else he would have pushed the old lady aside and ripped the door open. But he waited until she had moved out of his way. He thanked her properly and then he went inside.

Ishida was curled up on the couch. A blanket was draped around him and made him appear almost regal, surrounded by little castles in his kingdom. Ichigo inched his way inside and the moment he appeared in Ishida's field of vision, he found a pair of strikingly blue eyes fixed on him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked and got up. His eyes were glassy, his complexion pale and did not look like someone who should be outside his bed, let alone stand up. Ishida walked with instigated strides into his kitchen. Ichigo followed him nonplussed.

"What are you doing here?" he repeated.

"You haven't been answering my calls, so I wanted to check up on you."

Ishida stared at him with disbelief. "Get a fucking clue, Kurosaki."

"What?" he asked confused as he saw Ishida leaning on the counter. He looked like a wounded animal pushed into a corner with a gun pointed straight at his chest.

"I didn't pick up the phone because I didn't want to talk to you." he sneered and turned his face away.

"What? Why?"

"You made it perfectly clear, Kurosaki. I'm the last person with whom you wish to associate. I understand." he explained. Ichigo could not understand the meaning, but he understood one thing. And that was the fact that Ishida most certainly did not understand.

"You know, I've always kept my distance! I've always stayed on my side of the court! You were the one who came to me, you were the one who started this!" he was trembling now. His eyes seemed even more glassy than before. When he looked up, Ichigo had to swallow. The eyes were projecting nothing but pure self-loathing and hatred.

"Ishida, I –"

"Shut the fuck up, Kurosaki. You can't just come here and act like nothing happened."

Ichigo was dumbstruck. He did not know what to say, what to do. He didn't know if he should ask Ishida what was wrong, comfort him, hold him or send him to bed. He looked like he was running a fever.

"Leave." he said quietly. Ichigo stared. "I said leave!"

Ichigo's feet was rooted, it felt like a tree had snaked it's wooden chains around his feet and ankles and held him in place. Ishida glared at him with a livid expression.

"Get the fuck out!" he shouted. Ichigo scrambled backwards, tripping over a pile of books.

"FUCK OFF!" he screamed and Ichigo practically dashed out the room. Had he stayed, he would have seen Ishida slowly sliding down the cabinets, holding himself. A physical manifest of what his mind couldn't do at the moment.

Ichigo did not stop running until he was halfway across town. With a heavy breath he stared over his shoulder. The empty feeling that had been plaguing him since the time they kissed in the rain, was now gnawing his flesh, eating his bones and sucking at his marrow.

Walking home, his eyes grew emptier, his feet heavier and his scowl deeper.

He ignored his father and his sisters, he ignored the calls and the shouts. He went into his room and turned on the radio. He fell face first down the bed, haunted be Ishida's self-loathing glance. As the radio filled the room, he had to admit Ishida was right. It helped.

* * *

It was not until a week later that Ichigo found out why Ishida was avoiding him so.

He had been talking to Chad, Keigo and Mizuiro when Tatsuki and Inoue had come to join them. They had all laughed at something stupid Keigo had said and it almost felt as though Ichigo had never found Ishida in that storage-room that day. At least until Keigo brought him up.

"Hey, Ichigo. Where's your boyfriend?" he asked with a teasing smile. Ichigo slowly deigned himself to look at Keigo, looking as intimidating as ever.

"Keigo, I've already told you that Ishida's not my boyfriend." he hissed. Keigo snickered and started making kissing-faces. Ichigo let him kiss his fist.

"Hey, Orihime, you said you saw Ishida at school about a week ago." Tatsuki suddenly said and looked at Inoue. Ichigo stopped thrashing Keigo to hear whether or not this was true.

"Oh, yeah. I saw him last Monday I think it was. He almost didn't see me. I had to call out to him. He didn't look me in the eye, and when I asked him what he was doing here, he said he just came with a medical report to excuse his absence and to pick up some books. Well, he only said the books part, I asked the office later if he had stopped by. But it was really weird."

"What was?" Ichigo asked with badly hidden curiosity.

"He said he'd come to pick up some books, but he didn't carry any with him." Inoue remembered with a finger to her mouth. Ichigo wrinkled his brow.

"Where did you see him?" Chad asked with a deep bass.

"Outside the classroom, he was walking away from there when I saw him."

"Monday, you say? Oh, he might have heard of my discovery!" Keigo said behind them. Everybody turned to him and watched him. Keigo smiled deviously.

"It was Monday, I, Asano Keigo, found out Ichigo-kun was dating Four-Eyes!"

"You didn't find out shit!" Ichigo hissed.

"You also denied it vehemently then, but I can see through your facade, Ichigo-kun." Keigo almost sang with his hands placed underneath his chin.

It clicked so hard it almost hurt.

Ishida had heard him. Fuck, Ishida had heard him! He had not been quiet and he had certainly not been nice in anyway. He swallowed thickly. Chad watched him with careful eyes, or eye, Ichigo couldn't really see the other.

"Ichigo, could you come with me for a while?" the gentle giant asked. Ichigo nodded and followed an already receding Chad.

"What is the nature of you and Ishida's relationship?"

They were just far enough away so the others wouldn't hear them. Chad did not waste any time.

"Huh?" Ichigo simply stared at him.

Chad only returned. "Maybe you should figure that out before you do anything else."

Ichigo nodded and Chad went back to the rest of the group. He had always had a way to say all that needed to be said, while being elusive as shit. Ichigo went outside and sat down in the shade of a tree. He had seen Ishida do it a few times. Shit. He had been an asshole.

* * *

"Ichigo! I've found out who's your girlfriend!" Keigo said with great enthusiasm and pointed at him. Ichigo had given him a deadpan stare, not expecting anything grand. Ishida had been sick for a few days now, so he had been forced to listen to Keigo's speculations about his love-life.

To be fair, Ichigo had thought about nothing but Ishida and the fact that he had kissed him.

"It's someone we all know! It's not a girl! It's Ishida Uryuu!"

Ichigo had stood up so suddenly that his chair clattered to the floor. "Keigo, you said many stupid things but this one takes the prize!"

"That's right, Asano. Ichigo's not into guys." Tatsuki said and looked reproachfully at him.

Keigo got up too. "I saw you two sharing a bottle of water, you all know what that means!"

"Keigo, a bottle of water?" Ichigo asked, trying to sound aloof. He thought of how Ishida stood and toned his voice when talking to Keigo or Ichigo himself at times.

"Say what you want, my hunch tells me there's something rotten about you two."

"Keigo, even if Ishida was the last guy on the planet I wouldn't as much as associate with him. If I was to play for the other team, I wouldn't pick an arrogant, aloof, cold, bitchy and absolute pain in the ass, an idiot extraordinaire, a motherfucking seamstress slash full-out weirdo to fuck around with." Ichigo shouted to get his point across.

"But contrary to popular belief, I'm not digging that nerd. I would rather hand my ass over to Kenpachi and let him have his way with me than even give your suggestion an extra thought. I talk to him out of pity, he has no friends, and really, it's not a wonder why. He's even more annoying than you, Keigo!"

Alle eyes went wide. Especially Inoue and Chad looked horrified. They exchanged a glance.

Inoue excused herself to go the bathroom and Tatsuki said she had to go the library. One by one they all excused themselves and left the Soul Reaper to himself. Ichigo simply sent death glares to his lunch, wishing the ground would open and swallow him.

* * *

He sat staring out into empty space. Yuzu had tried telling him dinner was ready. Karin had asked him to come out or she would come inside and get him. His father had charged inside and was promptly kicked out without further explanation.

He turned on the radio to 92.9 and let the hosts talk about insignificant habits and abnormalities, let them play one stupid hit after another. One could argue he should turn it off, but Ichigo somehow felt closer to Ishida this way. He did not know if Ishida listened, but the chances were good.

He felt like shit. And rightfully he should. He had only said what he said to shut Keigo the fuck up. That and he had been overwhelmed. Overwhelmed at the intensity of whatever it was he felt towards Ishida. He felt reluctant and maybe a bit frightened to put a label on it. Giving it a name would make it real, and making it real, made it even more complicated. And make what he did that more severe.

The radio started playing "_Somebody That I Used to Know_" with Gotye.

As the song progressed he could not help feeling a sort of attachment to the lyrics. He did not remember them, but when he had heard them, they had felt like they were talking to him. And Ishida. If he was listening. Ichigo buried his head again.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the phone. He knew Ishida would not pick up, but there was some remains of hope hidden deep inside of him. Ichigo picked up the phone with an almost solemn movement and dialed up. He knew Ishida's number by heart now.

That was a shit expression. Know it by heart? Fucking right, he knew it by heart. He knew Ishida by heart. Fuck. That sounded so stupid. He did not want Ishida to find him stupid. He did not want Ishida to hate him. He did not want Ishida to ignore him.

He wanted Ishida to hold his hand in public and smile at him without a care in the world. He wanted him to laugh at his stupid jokes, he wanted to take him to the park without having to fight Hollows. He wanted to laze around his apartment, reading through that mountain of books. He wanted to complain about Ishida's mess, when secretly finding the place utterly perfect.

He wanted to kiss him. Anywhere would be fine. He wanted to do things to him, he did not really knew himself. He just knew that while he liked Ishida's headstrong, smart-ass confident, unwavering, brave and caring nature, he also like his physical appearance. He liked it a lot.

Something stirred in his pants and with dread he found himself getting aroused while thinking about Ishida. What annoyed him even more was that his prick was not quite as considerate of his situation as his hands were.

However, the fastest way to be rid of it, was to give it what it wanted. He waded to the bathroom and sat down on the toilet. He did not really feel like it, but willing it away also seemed rather impossible. He unbuttoned his pants and reluctantly got a hold of his member.

He stroked his dick with light pressure at first, but imagining Ishida in front of him, drenched, wearing white, made his mouth go dry. The shirt clung to his body, leaving very little to the imagination. Soon his hand was quite decisive, his mind full of Ishida sleeping, Ishida in his lap, Ishida – wait, he went back to Ishida in his lap.

Having the Quincy give him a blow-job would really be awesome. He imagined the pink lips, puffy and full after a heated make-put session, wrapped around his cock, stretched around his length with Ishida smirking. Only the archer would be cocky enough to think he had the upper-hand during such a rendezvous. Ishida had used that word one of the first times they talked.

Words. Ishida would probably sound amazing whispering dirty words and pleas into his ear. Ichigo pulled back the foreskin on his dick, exposing the sensitive head. He was really close, really hard and really into Ishida licking a trail all over his body while whispering nonsense in a another language.

Ishida knew at least three different languages, his tongue had to be rather nimble. Ichigo shuddered at that thought. Ishida talking to him, coarse voice demanding several . . . services, in a raw Spanish tone.

"Quiero tu polla." he could hear Ishida breathe next to him. And with that statement, Ichigo came.

It almost hurt, so good he felt. It was not until a few minutes later the guilt kicked in. And then he felt worse than before. It felt like there was a black whirlpool where his heart should be, it swallowed every little piece of momentary joy he might feel and dissolved it.

At 11pm the Substitute Soul Reaper Badge went off. He punched his soul out of his body and hurried towards the park. Chad and Inoue was already there, but Ishida was yet to be seen. The three Hollows swirled over their heads, too far up for any of them to reach. They were winged, they were fast, and they kept their distance.

Ichigo exchanged glances with Chad and used _Shun po_ to reach the Hollows above them. He did not make it to the first one before they had all been shot by three arrows. Three more followed, placed directly in their heads. Ichigo looked around, but saw no trace of Ishida.

He landed again and kept scouting the area.

"He better be at home still." Inoue chided and put her hands to her sides.

"He is." Chad stated. Ichigo sometimes wished he was as good to the whole _reiatsu_ sensing business as his friends, but no such luck. That was another of Ishida's jobs. While providing aerial support, he also scanned the area for Hollows. They had tried being a few meters from home when another pack attacked.

A phone beeped and Chad pulled out his cell-phone.

"There's not anymore around, as far as I can tell." Chad read and looked up.

He pressed a few buttons in rapid succession. "Okay. Thanks." he replied.

Even when writing text messages he was taciturn. They went home after that. Ichigo was pent up with frustrated energy and had been looking forward to whack a few Hollows around.

The radio was still on, his body lying messily on the floor. He went back in and felt his muscles be stiff and uncooperative. He hoisted himself onto the bed and stared up the ceiling. The alarm clock blinked 11:23am. He sighed and closed his eyes.

". . . and that was Bruno Mars with Just the Way You Are. It was requested by Hajime Kaoru for his girlfriend Hyuto Rika. Good luck with Hyoto-chan, Hajime-kun. Call us at xx-xxx-xxx and place your order, maybe you get as lucky as Hajime-kun. Next up is . . ."

Ichigo shot up and stared at the radio. He knew it was cheesy, that everybody would hear it, he would make a fool of himself and would possibly have Keigo gloating for months, but it was the only media he knew Ishida couldn't ignore.

He picked up the phone, dialed the number he had heard so often and waited.

"92.9, can I help you?" a matronly sounding woman said.

"Hi, my name is Kurosaki Ichigo, I would like to make a request."

"Honey, that's only between 4pm and 6pm we take requests from the listeners. You're listening to a recording from earlier today." The lady patiently explained to him.

"I know. But miss, please listen. It's life or death. I really need to request a song."

"The hosts are talking about homosexual marriages next, I don't think a request would be appropriate."

Ichigo thanked that random deity at work. "But you see, it's for a guy I really like. His name is Ishida Uryuu, and I really need to get a message across here."

"So it's a request from a guy, to another guy?" she asked. Ichigo confirmed. "Wait a second."

And then they hung up. "What the fuck?" he yelled, started, remembered his baby-sisters were sleeping in their rooms. "The fuck?" he mumbled.

He threw himself back on the bed and glared at the ceiling. Fuck whatever deity was at work.

The phone rang and Ichigo sighed. It was probably Keigo calling to ask him about the quiz tomorrow. He picked it up with bad grace and said, "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Kurosaki Ichigo speaking?"

"Of course it's me. Who the fuck did you think you called, asshole?" he asked annoyed and promised himself to thwart Keigo next time he saw him.

After a little hesitant moment, another male voice took the word, "It's 92.9 calling. We heard you want to request a piece of music for your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend." Ichigo deadpanned.

"See, our dear listeners, even the gay community has problems with love. Now, Kurosaki-kun, who's your chosen one?" they asked.

"I'm not disclosing his identity. He knows who he is." Ichigo deadpanned again.

"So what song would you like to request, Kurosaki-kun?" they laughed while Ichigo's scowl deepened. Fuck, he had not thought about that. It could not be a mushy song, people should not think he had turned into a rainbow. No, it had to be something catchy, something that conveyed his sentiments and something that Ishida would not lower the volume at.

"I haven't really thought about it?" he tried not making it sound like a question, but the rise remained.

"Alright, we can help you with that, Kurosaki-kun. What is it you want to say?"

Ichigo thought it over. This was going to end up in some horrible pop-song if he was not careful.

"I don't know. That I really miss him and that my life sucks pretty hard right now."

"Without him?" one of the hosts asked, sounding almost hopeful. Ichigo knew a trap when he saw one, but he could not really dodge this one.

"I guess."

"Great, here's _My Life Would Suck Without You_ by American artist Kelly Clarkson. From Kurosaki Ichigo-kun to Ishida Uryuu, I hope you're listening, Ishida-kun, he's gone through quite a hassle for this."

"Hey, I told you not to say his –" he did not get any further with his rage before they hung up. Again.

The two faceless hosts then played the song and Ichigo could only stare. Ichigo hoped Ishida would not think of him as conceited or an asshole for doing this. Putting him on the spot like that. And the song was horrid. Fuck! It made it sound like Ishida was the one who should apologize. He turned down the volume before they got to the chorus.

* * *

Ishida was at school the next day. If he heard the song, he did not show it. He actually did not do anything. The archer pointedly ignored Ichigo and his stares, he gave Keigo withering looks as the other tried to pester him the same way he had pestered Ichigo, but otherwise cut him down with snide remarks.

Ichigo sometimes wondered if Ishida wrote them down before leaving for school. He was witty when bullying others, but when talking about himself he needed at least half an hour to prepare. Ichigo smiled. Also ignored by Ishida.

When school ended, Ichigo still had a black hole swallowing him inside out and Ishida was still to do anything.

The hours turned days into and after three of those had passed, Ichigo had turned from sullen to angry. Ishida had ignored him, had turned his back to him when Ichigo had tried to talk to him, still did not pick up his phone. Ichigo was close to fuming.

"Kurosaki-kun, are you alright?" Inoue asked him as he broke the led of another pencil.

"I'm fine. Perfectly. Fine." he replied strained. He found his sharpener and twisted his pencil until he once again had led to use. Inoue looked worried, but did not pursue. She sent Tatsuki a short glance, nothing further was said or done.

When Ichigo walked home that day he found himself cursing the world and everyone in it to hell. He frowned and stopped. Why was he angry in the first place?

"_Because poor Ichigo isn't getting any attention._" a voice sounded in his head. He scowled and started walking again. That wasn't why.

It wasn't.

It was.

Shit.

What was nice about being with Ishida was that he knew the archer did not see him solely as the savior of Karakura or Soul Society. He did not give him special treatment, but treated him like he was a normal person. And that normalcy was something Ichigo had been without for the past two years.

He had to do something about this. His mood was fowl, he sneered and hissed at everyone around him, and most of all, he missed Ishida and his company.

When he got home he tried calling the Quincy again.

"_I didn't pick up the phone because I didn't want to talk to you."_ he remembered Ishida say. He sighed and put the phone down.

". . . here's Maroon 5 with their latest hit, _Payphone_. Enjoy!" the radio chimed and started playing the tune. Ichigo slowly turned towards the radio. He briefly wondered if it was being controlled from somewhere by someone who knew about his situation.

He did not listen to the lyrics, they meant fuck-all, no the title held the key. Ishida probably had that there Caller ID thing. He would know if it was Ichigo that called. Unless he used a payphone. He picked up a few hundred Yen and hurried out the door.

Ichigo ran until he found the first and the best payphone he could. He smacked the door behind him and slid in the change. With fingers trembling and throat dry, he dialed Ishida's number.

It rang.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

"Hello, this is Ishida Uryuu speaking." he was greeted. Ichigo almost forgot his own name as a feeling of relief and pure bliss rolled over him. He never thought that hearing Ishida's voice would invoke such a reaction.

"Hello?" Ishida asked.

"Before you hang up, please let me talk." he blurted out. Nice. Good start. Don't introduce yourself, manners are a waste of time. Fucking moron he was.

"Kurosaki?" the reply was hesitant. Ichigo took that as a sign to go for it.

"Listen, Ishida, I know you don't wanna talk to me, not answering your phone and all, but can we please meet and figure this out?"

It was quiet on the other end.

"As far as I remember you wouldn't associate yourself with me, even if I was the last person on the planet." he repeated with open contempt.

"Listen, I just want to talk to you, okay? If you don't want to listen, you can kick me out, but can we please ditch the silent treatment?" he close to pleaded. Who was he kidding, he was pleading.

There was again silence on the other end.

"Come over when you like." and the call ended. Ichigo's chest almost exploded. He could not stop the shit-eating grin from spreading from ear to ear. He started making his way over to Ishida's, but the closer he got, the more his smile faltered.

This was it. If Ishida did not forgive him after this, he would have to give up. The thought did not please him, but he figured that Ishida did not wish to revel in the fact that Ichigo had stabbed him in the back. If Ishida did not forgive him, he had have to move on.

But frankly, he did not want to move on.

He had liked coming to Ishida's every day, he had enjoyed being with the other teen, loved talking to him. The little things that gave Ishida's core away, how he kept all the artifacts the old lady gave him had made Ichigo realize that Ishida needed to be reminded that he was loved and cared for. The radio was a testament to how much Ishida detested silence and loneliness. Sleeping during the day made sense, when you knew he had witnessed horrors the common man could not even imagine.

Ichigo had reached the door and knocked tentatively. The place looked like itself. Ishida sat on the couch, poised and calm. Until Ichigo saw his eyes. They spoke of a certain kind of sadness, a profound need to understand and be understood. Ichigo toed off his shoes and made his way through the book-piles.

Ichigo noticed a little bottle of pills on the table. Scopolamin, it read. It was against nausea.

"If I make you sick, you shouldn't have invited my in." he remarked darkly.

"I've never been ashamed of who I was." Ishida said suddenly. Ichigo stopped dead in his tracks.

"I wouldn't have had anything if I was, but hearing you slander me in every possible way . . . I've never felt lower, more loathed than when you said that. You just proved to me that the world is full of two-faced assholes. But for some reason I didn't think you'd be one of them."

Ichigo felt his heart contract. The snakes were back, even angrier than before, crushing his entire being with their spineless bodies.

"I've never been ashamed of who I was." Ishida repeated, as if making the words truer by saying it twice. "But for some reason your opinion matters so much to me. I found out why a long time ago, it took me awhile, but I found out. What about you? Do you know why?" he asked and looked Ichigo directly in the eye.

"Ishida, listen –"

"No, you listen! I'm tired of trying to be something I'm not! All my life I've built these walls around me for the sole purpose of protecting myself. I learned at an early age that everything you gain, you lose. Every time there's something you like, it will be taken away from you! You just came in here and trampled down my barriers, my little quiet world, and then you, who initiated all this, slander me the minute I'm not by your side. I know, I said I understand, but truth is I don't. I don't understand you taking time to build a relationship with me, only to tear it down afterward. Need I remind you that you were the one who kissed me?"

Ishida was positively livid, on the edge of crying and the aura of self-loathing was back. Ichigo stood completely still, afraid Ishida might fracture if he moved. But nothing happened. Ishida's hand came up to eyes and he angrily swiped his glasses away to fiercely rub his eyes.

"Are you happy now, Kurosaki?" he asked, voice impossibly close to breaking.

Ichigo was most definitely not happy. He resumed his crossing of the room and got to Ishida in a matter of seconds. With hesitant movements, he enveloped Ishida in his arms. The archer stooped in his grasp, not accepting, but not rejecting Ichigo's efforts.

"You can be such an asshole."

"Listen. I know it sounds like a really bad excuse, but Keigo kept pestering me about it."

Ishida's face was hidden in his shoulder and his reply was muffled. "About what?"

"About us. I kissed you in the rain, but I had no idea why. Still don't. Well, I do, but I haven't named it."

"You haven't – named it?" Ishida asked with disbelief and pushed himself away from Ichigo.

"I didn't know if you were mad at me because I kissed you, because I killed that Hollow or because I bashed you. Keigo caught me off-guard, I just figured I would play it as always, but he wouldn't shut up. So I might've exaggerated a little. A lot." he tried. Ishida eyed him suspiciously.

"I like you, Ishida. I think I might be in love with you. It took me by surprise, caught me wrong-footed. I know it took me a long time to catch up with you, but please tell me we're on the same page."

When Ishida did not answer, Ichigo thought it was because he was preparing an assault of some sort. He did not expect to feel lip on his, Ishida whispering into his mouth, "You can be such an asshole."

Ishida bit his lower lip, then pushed in his tongue. Ichigo replied immediately and kissed back fervently. He let his hands slide down Ishida's back, feeling the soft fabric from his polo-shirt underneath his fingers.

Ishida's fingers were fisting his hair, pulling lightly, making a point, a statement. Ichigo understood and simply caressed the archer's tongue with his own. Ishida whimpered and pressed himself closer. Ichigo felt his blood rushing South as Ishida began sliding his hands down his torso and he admitted his own hands entrance under Ishida's shirt.

Ishida pushed Ichigo towards the bedroom, both of them stumbling over the piles in their way. His head was spinning and he really could not focus on his toes hitting books or doorframes, not when he had Ishida's tongue in his mouth, both wanting to taste the other, none of them getting their will.

But the taste of Ishida was truly tantalizing. He tasted like fresh air, like a gust of wind bringing the aromas from a teashop with it. Ichigo thought he tasted something akin to honey, something sweet yet a little spicy, like heather honey. Ishida smelled like a windy heatherfield, so tasting like heatherhoney was not too far off.

Ishida was also trying to get to his upper-body and kept pulling at the hem of his band-shirt. Ichigo wished he could just rip the damn thing off instead of breaking contact with Ishida's lips. But it has to be done and they separated shortly. Being the pragmatic he was, Ishida removed his own shirt at the same time Ichigo was removing his.

The minute the last fiber was off their respective bodies, they latched onto each other again. Ichigo could feel goose bumps rippling his entire body, Ishida held onto his face with gentle hands while kissed him with a feeling Ichigo had never seen anybody so filled with.

He did not have time to study Ishida's body, to appreciate the scars and the bruises, the outlines and the way the shades would manifest on his stomach, showing the sleek muscles on his otherwise skinny frame. He could not marvel at how someone so slender could be so strong, but he felt every little detail of Ishida against himself when they pressed together.

Ichigo pulled Ishida down on the bed, the Quincy simply following and ending on top of the Soul Reaper. Ichigo suddenly found his hips thrusting up into the empty air and with his hands he tried guiding Ishida's surprisingly firm and round ass down. He needed friction, but more importantly he wanted to let Ishida know exactly how much he affected him.

Apparently, Ichigo was not the only one being affected, is Ishida's hard-on was anything to go by. The archer's breath hitched when their hips met and Ichigo groaned. Without further instruction, Ishida placed himself directly on his pelvis, making the friction permanent and easily obtained through a minimum of movement.

Ichigo tried to feel every single inch of Ishida's body, tried to commit it all to memory. The Quincy's skin was like embers, awakening when Ichigo drove his hand across the plains of his back.

The radio was still on in the background, providing a setting, a backdrop for their intimacy. The hosts were chatting away as usual, but Ichigo caught part of their conversation, because he heard his own name mentioned.

" . . . helping Kurosaki Ichigo-kun. We hope you got Ishida-kun where you want him, here's _Drive By_ with Train."

Ichigo could not help smiling.

"I heard the broadcast, y'know." Ishida panted and bit down on his earlobe. "I never got around to tell how disgustingly sweet it was."

Ichigo hissed as Ishida licked his ear and purred into it, "Gracias, Ichigo, se me hizo muy feliz."

Ichigo had no idea what he said or if it was grammatically correct, but damn, it was like Ishida knew how sexy Spanish sounded when rolling of his tongue. Ichigo had not been impressed at all when Aizen or Grimmjow or Ulqiorra or Yammy, that fat ass, had used it, but dammit, Ishida just sounded hot.

"Do you like when I speak Spanish?" Ishida asked with a smirk. Ichigo's mouth went dry.

"Mala suerte, Ichigo. Soy mejor en Alamania." he whispered.

"If you don't stop saying weird shit while rolling the R's, I'm gonna have to fuck you."

"Haz lo que quieras." Ishida pecked his mouth. Ichigo understood jack-shit of the words, but the meaning was quite clear. Ishida was practically inviting him to nail him. And he had every intention of doing so.

He wrestled with his buckle, until Ishida guided his hands and almost opened it for him. Ichigo did not know how his mouth kept watering and drying up, but if Ishida kept doing all those insanely attractive things, he would have to endure. And he would, gladly.

Ishida rid himself of his pants while Ichigo scrambled out of his. Then they were naked and close and oh, so hot. It almost burned to touch Ishida's bare skin, he felt like his fingers were melting when they came into contact with that deceivingly cold-looking body. He slid a hand up Ishida's long, smashing legs, lavishing himself with the feel of those elegant limbs.

Ishida was hot, deft and most definitely as turned on as Ichigo was. The aforementioned reached out to get something from his nightstand. He slapped a little tube made of tinfoil in Ichigo's hands.

"Hold this." he bade and took off his glasses. Now they were really naked!

Ichigo swallowed and handed the tube back to Ishida. The Quincy squeezed a generous amount of clear lubricant into his palm and then pressed his mouth against Ichigo's. The Soul Reaper had no idea what the Quincy was doing, but he was curious as to where that hand had gone. He snaked on of his own around the lithe body on top of him and felt his way down.

He met Ishida's hand down by his ass, found it slippery and most definitely occupied with something. Ichigo broke the kiss to flip them around. Ishida yelped in surprise, but flushed deep crimson when he found Ichigo staring down his body like a predator.

It was all Ichigo had felt it was. Flushed around his neck, his chest heaving and his mouth slightly open. Ichigo swallowed and could not do anything but ravish Ishida with his eyes.

"You wearing your – hungry-frown." he commented and covered his mouth with the back of his right hand. His left rested on his hips, right next to his filled, flushed and feverish erection. Ichigo's mouth went dry yet again and lent down to plant a kiss on the archer's sternum.

A sternum that was adorned by the Quincy-pentacle.

Ishida squirmed and Ichigo looked up to find the other starring at him wide-eyes.

"Kurosaki." he gasped as Ichigo moved and his dick brushed against Ishida's thigh.

Ishida took his hand and guided it down towards his ass. Ichigo knew next to nothing about gay-sex so he was pretty much going along with Ishida. The Quincy coated his index- and middle-finger in lube and pushed them further down.

Ichigo reached past the Quincy's scrotum and moved his hand down until he found his rectum, already slick with lube. If it had been anybody other than Ishida, he would have refused. But gently, he pushed his first finger in, receiving a muffled gasp for his troubles.

Ichigo pushed in his middle-finger, Ishida had already done a little to stretch himself. Ichigo felt the inside of Ishida with his fingers and marveled at the softness, the velvety feel. Burning hot, slick and tight as hell.

Ichigo could not wait any longer and crawled on top of Ishida, who just met his eyes and nodded once.

When he pushed in, his brain stopped working for a short while. And just like with the kiss, it almost exploded into action. He kissed Ishida gently, while moving slowly and just fucking him thoroughly. Maybe they were fumbling, sloppy with their kisses and maybe they were grasping for air, but it did not matter in the least.

Ishida would lean up and kiss Ichigo with so much emotion and so many things left unsaid, that Ichigo had to push him down and pursue the kiss like wild game. Their hearts galloped like deers on the run, their bodies burned like the sun and their eyes traveled further than anyone had before.

Ichigo felt himself climbing the staircase to the Heavens and moved with greater force and determination. He was so close to the edge, balancing right on the border to that blissful abyss. Like a wave crashes against the shore, so did his climax crash against him. He came inside Ishida, his arms gave out and he fell on top of the other boy.

Ishida grabbed his own member and stroked himself hard and fast. Ichigo could only watch. The sight was almost incriminating, it should not spark his imagination as it did, but seeing Ishida bring himself to completion made him shudder.

The archer cried out and arched his back. He flopped down on the mattress, spent, boneless and almost glowing. Ichigo shifted and slid out of Ishida's rear and settled down right next to him.

"I didn't get you off." he stated and turned his eyes to Ishida who merely watched him, still trying to catch his breath.

"What?"

"You had to use your hand to come." he clarified.

"Kurosaki, this was our first time. While you have fantastic instincts, it requires a little practice."

"How do you know?" Ichigo asked, feeling his heart clench.

"It's the same for everything. I can't master my bow without practice and training, you can't master _Zangetsu_ without the same. And don't worry, you gained your _Bankai_ within days of discovering your _Shikai_. I have faith in you." Ishida shrugged and nestled closer.

"If not we'll have to bring in a third party." he added.

"WHAT?" Ichigo all but bellowed. Ishida chuckled. "It was a joke, Kurosaki. I know you're quite possessive. I don't mind though. I like the thought about being possessed."

Ishida yawned and then drifted to sleep. Ichigo kissed his hair and smiled. And possess him, Ichigo would.

* * *

"Hey Ichigo, did you get laid?"

"This again?" Ichigo simply glared at Keigo. Ishida was sitting next to him eating his lunch in silence.

"You look happy and all that jazz, did you and Four-Eyes do it?" he asked with sparkles strewn over his eyes. Ichigo sighed.

"We have. Four times yesterday alone." he deadpanned and watched gleefully as Keigo paled.

"I-I-I-Ichigo, you traitor!" he screamed and ran off, probably to find Mizuiro or Chad, someone who would listen to his outrageous discovery.

"Kurosaki, we haven't done anything since yesterday." Ishida said with an arched brow.

"Keigo doesn't know that. And it might teach him to mind his own fucking business."

Ishida simply shook his head, but Ichigo knew what he thought of it.

"Don't look all righteous, you would've done the same."

"Sometimes you can really be an asshole." Ishida smiled lightly. If Ichigo did not know better, he would have been insulted. But knowing better, he knew it was his boyfriend's way of saying, I like you.

_FIN_


End file.
